Page 4 of Heads or Tails
Gerri Wilder was a rich matchmaker who contributed to the disadvantaged youth program Rose ran outside of Prescott. She gave Rose a nod mid-song, her sleek, gray eyes penetrating the velvet, black sea of the crowd.
When they finished, Rose felt a surge of anxiety rush over the usual adrenaline she felt after performing. She trotted backstage and ran right into Gerri, who was definitely dressed out of character for the establishment.
“Wonderful set,” Gerri said, holding out her hand to Rose.
Rose glanced down, feeling her people-pleasing persona come back to life. She shook her strong hand, peering into knowing and kind eyes.
“What gave me away?” Rose asked, smirking.
Gerri shook her head and shrugged, pulling the dark blue shawl she was wearing over her arms. “Nothing, Rose,” she said sweetly. “Not everyone is as observant as I am, that’s all.”
Rose felt her neck get hot, then tilted her head at the woman whose gaze had yet to avert. “Are you here to blackmail me or something?” Rose quipped.
Gerri let out a soft puff of laughter, her hand coming to her chest. “Heavens no,” Gerri said. “Can’t a woman enjoy both the generosity of others as well as some dirty guitar work?”
Rose felt the weight of the world ascend off her shoulders. The two women returned to the bar area where the rest of the band was canoodling and found a private booth to chat.
“I am very impressed that you’ve managed to maintain two separate lives,” Gerri said, stirring her gin and tonic. “Starkly different to some people.”
Rose was nursing a whiskey and Coke, feeling on edge again for no particular reason. “I technically couldn't lose my job,” Rose said, trying to appear as cool as her outfit implied. “But I’m already on thin ice with the board, so I wouldn’t want to push it.”
Gerri nodded, a broad smile permanently on her solemnly attractive face. “So what else does a superwoman like you do in her spare time?”
Rose nearly spat out her drink, choking on the beverage as she began to chuckle. Gerri’s still look remained unwavering by the abrupt reaction.
“What free time?” Rose said, her red lips smeared from sweat. “With work, the outreach program, and playing sets, I barely get to sleep.”
Gerri raised an eyebrow. “No time for relaxation? Fun? Pleasure?”
Rose took a giant gulp of her whiskey. She knew the barkeep, so it was stronger than what was normally served to the patrons. She grimaced sharply before speaking again. “This is fun,” Rose said, clearing her throat.
Gerri leaned forward on the table. Rose could feel her breath on her skin, which made the little hairs stand, tickled by her presence. “I think you know what I mean,” Gerri said, shooting her a wink.
Rose felt a blush rising in her cheeks. She looked away, covering her embarrassment with a bubbly laugh. “Oh, god, no,” she replied. “The best sex I’ve had lately has been with myself. I like it better that way.”
Gerri smiled broadly, then took a sip of her drink. The din of the bar filled between them for a moment, making Rose feel a little weary. “What if I said I had someone in mind for you already?” Gerri finally spoke. “I can match you two up, pro bono.”
Rose frowned, feeling a mix of excitement and confusion. “And why would you do that?” she asked.
Gerri tapped her fingers against the gritty table. “Maybe I like you,” she replied. “Maybe I enjoy making two people happy.”
Rose let out a sigh. She felt a rush of excuses flow through her mind: how busy she was, how little she needed a man to make her happy, how she truly was waiting for “the one” if they existed at all. But there was a look in Gerri’s eyes that was knowing, something that seemed to look into the future and simply trust.
Rose tossed back her whiskey and then called over a server. “Let’s do it,” she said, a mischievous grin on her face.
When the server brought their second drink, Gerri spoke again, holding her glass to her lips. “Oh, and I specialize in shifter mates,” she said. “So your match will be a shifter if that works for you.”
Rose was a little startled but enthralled and intrigued. She tilted her to the side and bit her lip. “What’s more punk rock than dating a shifter?”
THREE
ROSE
Running her fingers through the freshly curled ends of her long blonde hair, Rose couldn’t help but look at herself in the mirror and frown a bit.
Normally, dates like this didn’t make her nervous, but there was something about potentially dating a shifter that was making the butterflies in her stomach go wild. Was it nervous excitement for her future or the anxiety that she may not be a match?
Either option made her rake her fingers through her hair again in apprehension.